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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23624572">October 1992</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katiemonz/pseuds/Katiemonz'>Katiemonz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action, Alcohol, Family, Found Family, Gen, Meouch makes a cameo at the end lol, Sports!, comic mischief and violence, friends - Freeform, just generally a good time, rated t for cursing, sung and phobos share one brain cell and pass it back and forth like its a hot potato</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:54:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,667</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23624572</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katiemonz/pseuds/Katiemonz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sung and Phobos travel back in time to watch the Blue Jays win the world series. They have some beers, buy some knick knacks, get shot at, take some hostages, laugh until they cry... y'know, normal Earth baseball stuff.</p><p>"Happy birthday Phobos--I got you a crime spree. You're welcome."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>October 1992</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Howdy everyone! Here's an almost 10k oneshot about TWRP, time traveling, and baseball. I don't quite understand how it happened, either. Huge thanks to my friend Ben for the prompt, and to my gf Ashe for helping me edit this monster! You guys are the best ;A; Anyway, enjoy the fic everyone!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was October 24th, 1992, and Doctor Sung led Lord Phobos off of their ship and into the back of the parking lot of the Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium. It was dark, just after eight, and the warm Georgia air, a stark contrast to the chill of Toronto, washed over them as they stepped onto the pavement.</p><p>“Welcome,” Sung said, holding his arms out wide as he backed away from the ship, “to the sixth and final game of the 1992 World Series, aka, the night the Toronto Blue Jays win their first ever world champion title.” He smiled and pulled out two tickets from his back pocket. “Happy birthday, Phobos!”</p><p>Phobos stared at him, slack-jawed. He looked down at the tickets, and then up at the stadium, eyes wide. He pointed excitedly--not even signing, just motioning at the stadium and the ship and Sung and himself. Sung returned the gesture, nodding and pointing right along with him. They laughed.</p><p><em> Are you serious with this? </em> Phobos signed, his smile stretched wide across his face.</p><p>“Yes! Dude, I <em> told </em> you--once we finished doing all the math to figure out when your birthday was, we were gonna go hard! Go all out! No holds barred!” Sung handed one of the tickets over and nodded towards the stadium. “Game starts in a half hour. You ready, bud?”</p><p><em> No!! </em> Phobos signed, and Sung gasped out a laugh. <em> I need to get changed! I have an extra jersey in my bunk. Hang on! </em>He sprinted back aboard the ship, the metal gangplank door sliding shut behind him, and Sung could almost hear rustling and drawers opening from outside.</p><p>Sung had been meaning to take Phobos to this particular Jays game for a long time. They were his favorite team, and, on warm sunny days, he could often be found  flying over the stadium in Toronto with his jetpack, watching the game from above. The Blue Jays had only won the World Series twice--once in ‘92 and then a year later in ‘93--and this game was supposed to be a good one. A tied game all the way into extra innings, where the tension will crescendo and the Canadians will take home the gold for the first time ever. Of <em> course </em> they had to hop back a few decades to check this out. It was a classic. Phobos deserved it, after all the math he had to do in order to calculate his birthday on Earth’s calendar.</p><p>Phobos had been inside for almost ten minutes, and Sung was about to go into the ship and check on him when the door opened with a <em> swoosh. </em> Phobos had more than just a jersey on--he was wearing a Blue Jays beanie, covering up his long pointed ears, and his face was covered in makeup that gave him a more human skin tone. He tossed a pair of sunglasses to Sung. They were big and bulky, almost like a visor in and of themselves, and would fit him better than normal sunglasses.</p><p>“Good call,” Sung said, slipping the shades on. It was nighttime, so it wasn’t the <em> most </em> inconspicuous time to be wearing them, but they did a decent enough job of covering his one eye.</p><p>Back home in the present (or what they were calling the present, nowadays. That stuff was confusing when everyone came from different points in time and space), they didn’t give much of a shit about being seen in public. Half of Toronto knew about them, and for whatever reason, no one believed they were actual aliens. They could usually just go out about town with no issue, and they put minimal effort into concealing their ship or acting like humans. They wanted Earth to feel like home, and that meant being able to be themselves when they went to the grocery store or whatever. But this, here in 1992, was less about being aliens and more about being time travelers. In temporal terms, 1990s Atlanta and 21st century Toronto were really close to each other, and they could easily mess with their own timelines purely by accident. The more they blended in with the crowd here, and the fewer ripples they created in the time stream, the better.</p><p><em> I wish you had told me where we were going, </em> Phobos signed once his hands were free. <em> I would’ve brought my helmet. Or at least, a set of colored contacts. </em>Of his four white eyes, he held two of them closed. Like that, and with the makeup and the hat, he looked relatively human. Maybe not up close, but no one was going to notice him in passing.</p><p>“Eh, I think you’ll be fine. No one’s gonna notice except the ticket takers and the concessions stand people, and we won’t be talking to them for very long anyway.”</p><p><em> Why didn’t </em> you <em> think to bring disguise stuff? You could use a hat, too. </em></p><p>Sung brought a hand up to one of his own upwards-pointing ears. “I think it'll be okay. Yours are more obvious than mine. I was just really excited to bring you here, especially since Havve and Meouch didn’t want to come. I didn’t really think ahead. Now, are we ready?”</p><p>Phobos glanced back up at the spaceship currently taking up four slots in the parking lot. He looked back down at Sung. Motioning towards the ship with both hands, he pressed his mouth into a line.</p><p>“Look man, there’s not a lot of places in freakin’ Atlanta where you can hide a spaceship. We’re far enough back in the parking lot that no one should be coming over here.”</p><p>
  <em> You sure? </em>
</p><p>“No, but I didn’t want to park three miles away and then have to walk all the way back here, <em> okay?” </em> Sung groaned and rolled his eye behind his sunglasses.</p><p>Phobos blew air out of his nose and elbowed Sung in the arm. <em> Lazy. </em></p><p>Sung grimaced and hissed as they started the long walk to the stadium. “Ouch, man. You’re fuckin’ bony, you know that? Keep that elbow to yourself.”</p><p>Phobos elbowed him again.</p><p> </p><p>They got into the stadium with only a few weird looks, which Sung counted as a success. The place was jam-packed, and no one was paying much mind to Phobos’s slightly green skin poking out or Sung’s awkward sunglasses. They loaded up on hotdogs and nachos and beer at the concessions stand (“Everything’s so much cheaper in the 90’s!”) and just managed to find their seats before the opening pitch. The energy in the stadium was electric, enough to send little pulses of empathic energy firing in Sung’s brain, and even Phobos, who already knew how the game would play out, was sitting on the very edge of his seat. Things were perfect.</p><p>Sung did a quick scan of the crowd around them to make sure no one was staring at them, just to be safe. No one seemed to be glancing their way, which was reassuring. At least until Sung spotted an unusual figure, a flash of bright purple in a crowd of red and blue, and he felt his blood run cold. “Phobos,” he said, his eye locked on the violet coat seated a few rows ahead of them. Phobos didn’t respond. <em> “Phobos,” </em> he hissed again, jamming him in the side with his elbow. “We’ve got a problem.”</p><p>Phobos looked at him then, confused. He tried to follow Sung’s gaze, peering through the crowd, but he came up short. He shrugged. It wasn’t easy to sign with beer in one hand and a hot dog in the other.</p><p>The cloaked figure turned their head, and Sung hit the deck, slipping out of his seat and hiding behind the person sitting in front of him. When Phobos didn’t follow, he pulled him down too, nearly resulting in beer, ketchup, and mustard getting everywhere. Phobos managed to hold on to everything, just barely, and when he regained his balance in his crouched position, he glared at Sung with all four eyes. <em> What the fuck? </em> He mouthed.</p><p>“Time cop,” Sung whispered, low enough so no one else would hear. He glanced up, trying to peek between the seats. The people seated around them were definitely staring at them now, but he couldn’t tell if the time cop had noticed.</p><p>Phobos pulled him back and thrust his food and drink at him, freeing up his hands. <em> What are you talking about? What’s a time cop? </em></p><p>“Shit. Yeah, I guess you’ve never run into one before, have you?”</p><p><em> Are they after us? Are we not supposed to be here? Since when are there laws for time traveling?! </em>His signing was frantic, and he was starting to look freaked out.</p><p>“I don’t <em> think </em> we’re breaking any laws… I mean, aside from the fact that my time travel licence is a few centuries out of date, but--”</p><p>
  <em> Your what is what?! </em>
</p><p>“I’ve never seen these guys on Earth before!” Sung stammered, earning a few more weird looks from the people sitting next to them. He smiled sheepishly and readjusted his sunglasses to make sure they covered his eye. “Uh… It’s a Canadian thing,” he said. People thankfully went back to ignoring them. He turned back to Phobos and kept his voice down. “Dude, I’ve been all <em> over </em> Earth, time-wise. Hell, there are concerts I’ve been to three separate times, each time narrowly avoiding running into my past selves. That’s how much haphazard time traveling I’ve done. And I’ve <em> never </em> seen a time cop on this planet before. What the hell kind of time crimes could someone commit here?”</p><p><em> Here? At a major historical championship sporting event? I can think of a few, </em> Phobos signed. He stole a glance between the seats, trying to get another look at the threat. <em> Those two in the purple trench coats? </em></p><p>“Wait, two?!” Sung hissed. He peered through the next gap over. There was indeed a second time cop, standing up and talking to the first one. Sung could make out a faint shimmer on the new one’s face. It looked like the holographic mask they had on to look human was having a hard time adapting to the stadium lights. “Son of a bitch.”</p><p>Phobos tapped him on the shoulder to grab his attention. <em> So are they here for us? Or just on patrol or something? </em></p><p>“I dunno. Either way, if they see us, we’re in trouble.”</p><p>
  <em> We pass as human from a distance though, right? </em>
</p><p>“Yeah, to other humans who aren’t paying attention and who aren’t on the lookout for time traveling aliens. Your neck is green, and I have fuckin’ sunglasses on. They’re trained to sniff out crappy disguises like ours.”</p><p>Phobos sighed. He took another look between the seats, looking over the heads of the time cops to try and see the game happening down below. His tense shoulders deflated, and his eyelids drooped to half mast. <em> Guess we need to head back to the ship and get out of here, </em> he signed slowly.</p><p>Oh no. They had worked too hard for this. Phobos spent months reverse engineering his three-sunned planet’s day/night cycle to match it to Earth’s calendar. Sung scoured the time stream to find tickets to this game that would’ve otherwise gone unsold, and therefore caused the fewest ripples. A few time cops never stopped him before, and they sure as hell weren’t going to now. “Forget it,” Sung said, plastering a giant cocky smile on his face. “It’s your fuckin’ birthday, man. You’re gonna get to see your boys win this game if it’s the last thing I do.”</p><p><em> This is a really stupid rock to die on, </em> Phobos signed, a smile starting to creep onto his features as well, <em> but I’m into it. What’s our plan? </em></p><p>“Well, first off,” Sung said, pressing the bottle of beer back into Phobos’s hand, “you’re gonna need some more of this.”</p><p> </p><p>Sneaking out of their seats without piquing the attention of the humans around them was easy enough. Standing up and staying “excuse me” like normal people did the trick. Anyone who looked up at Sung and Phobos’s faces would sooner assume they were just humans with weird birth defects, rather than a whole separate species. Humans always looked for easy answers like that.</p><p>Trying to avoid the gaze of the two time cops, however, was a little trickier. They had to keep their faces pointed away from the game (which was especially hard for Phobos), duck and hide behind poles, trash cans, and even a very confused peanut vendor, all while not drawing too much attention to themselves. By the time they were back in the interior of the stadium and sneaking their way out to the parking lot, it was the top of the third inning and Toronto was up 1-0 on Atlanta.</p><p><em> As long as we’re back by the top of the 4th, </em> Phobos signed as they walked through the underbelly of the stadium, past the gift shops and food vendors. <em> There’s going to be a home run and I don’t want to miss it. </em></p><p>“Dang dude, do you have this whole game memorized or what?” Sung asked quietly.</p><p>
  <em> More or less. I’ve watched it on YouTube a couple dozen times. </em>
</p><p>“Oh my god,” Sung laughed. “Come on, we’re almost there. We’ll pop back to the ship, zip home, grab some actually decent disguises, and using the beauty of time travel, make it back here without missing any of the action. Bing bang boom, we’re watchin’ the game in style, and I’m not getting arrested. Perfect birthday outing.”</p><p>They made it outside to the parking lot, and easily spotted their ship. Even way in the back of the lot, it was twice as tall as the squat, boxy 90’s cars surrounding it, and it stuck out like a sore thumb. Oops.</p><p>“Maybe I <em> should </em> get a cloaking device installed,” Sung mused to himself. He felt, more than saw, Phobos roll his eyes next to him. He ignored the gesture and instead led the way through the sea of cars, checking all around for the time cops now that they were out in the open.</p><p>A hundred feet from the ship, he ducked behind a sedan and swore under his breath. The ship was absolutely <em> swarming </em> with time cops, all in dark violet trench coats, inspecting the vessel and trying to get inside. “Son of a fucking bitch, really?”</p><p><em> The ship wasn’t exactly hidden, </em> Phobos signed, crouched down next to him. <em> Think they’re going to take it? </em></p><p>“They can’t. The biometric locks on that baby are from a million years in the future. Shit’s uncrackable. No one but the four of us can get in.”</p><p>
  <em> Deimos got in that one time. </em>
</p><p>“Look, I hadn’t accounted for identical twins, okay? But that was a one-time thing. It’s not happening again. And anyway--”</p><p><em> We don’t know Havve’s history, </em> Phobos signed. <em> He could have a twin. And Meouch doesn’t talk about his family. He could-- </em></p><p>“You know what? You? Mm.” Sung pouted, swatting at Phobos’s hands when he tried to keep signing. “The point <em> is-- </em> These nerds can’t get into our ship. Unfortunately, I don’t see how <em> we’re </em> getting in, either.”</p><p>
  <em> Distraction? </em>
</p><p>“Sounds risky. There’s a lot of them, and only two of us. They know there are aliens here, so we won’t really have the element of surprise.”</p><p><em> But they don’t know that </em> we <em> know that </em> they’re <em> here, </em> Phobos signed slowly, trying to not get finger tied. <em> So they still might not expect it. </em></p><p>“Maybe…” Sung hummed, squinting through his dark sunglasses as he scoped out the scene. “I dunno, it’s still risky. It’d have to be a hell of a distraction for neither of us to get caught. We’d have to lure all… eight? Nine? All nine of them away from the ship to have a chance at getting away scot-free.”</p><p><em> Since when are you so cautious? </em>Phobos asked with a dry smile.</p><p>“Since my recklessness got us <em> into </em> this mess in the first place!” Sung whisper-yelled. “I’m trying to <em> learn </em> from my mistakes, Phobs.”</p><p><em> Your dedication to character growth is admirable, </em> Phobos nodded. <em> So what do we do? </em></p><p>“We move on to plan B. C’mon, we’re going back inside.”</p><p> </p><p>Back in the stadium, they didn’t return to their seats. Instead, they skulked around, identifying three more time cops, all in purple. For as shitty as Sung and Phobos’s disguises were, at least they were wearing team colors. These dudes were looking around like they’d never seen a baseball game before, which, to be fair, they probably hadn’t. Most people from space and the future had dealt with humans before--once humans figured out space travel for real, they spread across the galaxy like a bad rash--but to be around this many humans at once was, pardon the expression, a whole different ball game. Sung and Phobos had the home field advantage here.</p><p>That didn’t mean the time cops weren’t a threat. Sung had run into them a number of times before, barely escaping by the skin of his teeth each time. If they managed to get a full perimeter set up around the stadium, he and Phobos would have no way out with their current excuses for disguises. They had to act, and they had to act soon.</p><p>Phobos spotted one of the bastards on their own, sitting by one of the foul posts and scanning the crowd above them. Their back was to the field, so getting the drop on them wouldn’t be easy, but they were the only cop without a partner. Sung and Phobos might scare some spectators by starting an altercation, but oh well. Make an omelette, gotta break some eggs, etc. etc..</p><p><em> Okay, review, </em> Phobos signed once the cop was in their sights. They were ducked behind a trash can, awkwardly hidden from sight. <em> I distract them by walking up from the side. You flank and do some karate shit to their neck to knock them out. Yeah? </em></p><p>Sung nodded. “I take their holomask and coat and whatever other gizmos they’ve got, impersonate ‘em, and use that to take out <em> another </em> goon so you have a disguise, too. After that, we’re golden, baby. As long as actual park security doesn’t throw us out, anyway.”</p><p>Phobos pounded his fist into his open hand and smiled. It was time to get rowdy.</p><p>Sung gave him a good luck pat on the back and crouch-walked around the seating section to get into flanking position. Phobos stood up, facing the field. The time cop turned toward him.</p><p>It hit Sung then, at about the same time that the crack of the bat rang through the stadium, that it was the top of the fourth inning and Toronto was due for a home run.</p><p>Suddenly, the crowd was screaming. The announcer was screaming. Phobos was silent, staring as the ball went into the stands a few sections away. Then, he was clapping above his head and whistling as loud as he could, right where he stood in the middle of the aisle. The time cop moved toward Phobos, ruining Sung's flanking position.</p><p>Sung tried to run up behind the time cop to close the distance, but struggled against the crowd, everyone standing up out of their seats and cheering. Sung’s sunglasses slipped off his face, tumbling to the floor, and he skittered after them, reaching with one hand while using the other to try and block his face. He wasn’t fast enough, and a string of gasps broke through the screams of the crowd. The cop turned their head at the sudden lack of cheers, looking at Sung just before he managed to slip his glasses back on. The cop’s eyebrows shot up as they <em> definitely </em> caught a glimpse of Sung’s eye. God fucking dammit.</p><p>It was too loud to hear over the crowd, but Sung saw them talk into a communicator on their wrist. <em> Targets spotted. </em></p><p>He had to think fast. The element of surprise was blown, and they were in direct view of a lot of people. No place for a fight. Sung bolted back the way he came, juking around cheering fans and clinging to his shades. “Phobs!” he yelled over the crowd, and miraculously, Phobos turned his head. Obviously, Sung running away was not part of the plan, so Phobos took off too, booking it back towards the interior concourse. Sung almost collided with him at the entrance, the time cop hot on his heels. Phobos stumbled, and Sung grabbed him by the wrist to pull him inside. Once they were out of the public eye, they could kick this guy’s ass.</p><p>They made it into the corridor, but the way inside was blocked by two more time cops, both brandishing weapons. “Freeze!” one shouted, and Sung was treated to an unpleasantly familiar sensation. The world around him sped up exponentially, and he felt like he was running through molasses. </p><p>Time freeze blasters were such a pain. </p><p>Luckily, Sung had an out. He squeezed Phobos’s wrist tighter and focused on the prismatic core in his chest. He didn’t have time to tell Phobos to hang on. It hummed, vibrating from the blast of concentrated chronological energy, and grew uncomfortably hot in its housing. It flashed white, and as suddenly as the world sped up, it slowed back down again. Sung shoulder checked his way past the two cops, still dragging Phobos behind him.</p><p>“Shit shit shit. This is bad,” he wheezed to himself between breaths. Using his core like that took a lot of energy, and he could feel a stitch forming in his side. He turned back to look at Phobos. “You okay, bud?” </p><p>Phobos looked a little greener around the gills than usual, but was unharmed and was still able to keep pace. The time cops, stunned in surprise behind them, were just starting to give chase again.</p><p>Luckily, exiting the hallway and entering the interior of the stadium lead to plenty of corners to duck around. Sung and Phobos dove into a gift shop, empty save for the clerk who didn’t even seem to be paying attention, and hid inside a circular t-shirt rack. They huddled up close, trying not to make a sound. Sung tried to steady his breathing, and he covered his still-glowing prismatic core with his hand. Every breath hurt, and he could barely hear the echoing of the crowd outside over the blood rushing through his ears.</p><p>Phobos grabbed his attention with a hand on his shoulder. <em> You okay? What the hell was that? </em> He looked pretty frazzled. Some of the makeup had wiped off his face, and one of his long, pointed ears was poking out of his beanie.</p><p><em> They tried to freeze us in time, </em> Sung signed back, not willing to attempt talking just yet. <em> Prismatic core stopped it. Fine in a minute. </em></p><p>Phobos grimaced. <em> Sorry I fucking blew it back there, </em> he admitted. <em> They nearly had us because I wasn’t paying attention. I was too busy watching the damn game. </em></p><p>Sung couldn’t help but smile. <em> It’s okay. Sick home run. </em>Of course, he didn’t actually see it, but just judging by Phobos’s expression at the time, it was a good hit. And besides, Phobos having fun was the whole reason they came here in the first place.</p><p>Heavy boots clomped across the floor in front of the shop, and Sung and Phobos held their breath. They could see out of the gaps in the shirts. There was a particularly gruff-looking time cop stomping around the gift shop, looking for them. The other two must have broken off to search elsewhere. It was two on one again, only this time Sung and Phobos were definitely at a disadvantage.</p><p>Sung tried to come up with a plan, but his mind was drawing a blank. Should they stay and hide? Should they run? He didn’t know if he could handle more running right now. He really needed a solid breather.</p><p>Phobos, taking things into his own hands, gently parted the t-shirts and snuck out of the display while the cop’s back was turned. He slowly lifted a commemorative baseball bat up off a stand. Holy shit. The time cop started to turn back towards them, and Phobos panicked and hid behind the shirts again. Hangers rustled and squeaked, and the time cop approached. Shit. Fuck. God dammit. Time to improvise.</p><p>Sung slipped his shoe off his foot and threw it out the back of the shirt rack. It hit the ground with a thud, and the sound distracted the time cop further. He circled around the rack, and Phobos tiptoed around the opposite direction, keeping the shirts between them in a sort of dance. The cop reached the shoe, his hands on his gun. His back was to them. Phobos stepped towards him, bat raised.</p><p><em> Crack! </em> Phobos nailed him upside the head and he went down like a grounder to first, dazed. Sung jumped out of the shirt display and grabbed the time blaster out of the cop’s hand.</p><p>“Now, <em> you </em> freeze,” he said, taking aim, and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. A little error sound buzzed with each attempted pull. “Huh? Oh, wait, shit, biometrics. Fuck.” Sung crouched down, put the gun back in the goon’s hand, and pointed it at the guy’s own head again. <em> “Now </em> you freeze,” he said again, and used the cop’s finger to pull the trigger.</p><p>The blaster responded this time, and a conical blast of blue energy enveloped him. The air wobbled around the cop and his breathing slowed, his body appearing slightly redder from the time distortion. The holographic mask he wore flickered more and more, until his alien features started to peek through.</p><p>Sung breathed a sigh of relief and sat back on his haunches. “Oh holy shit,” he huffed, running his hand up over his head and through his short hair. “That was fucking awesome.”</p><p><em> There’s still other time cops lurking around, </em> Phobos signed, holding his bat under his arm to free up his hands. <em> We can’t rest yet. </em></p><p>“You’re right. Let’s loot this guy and get a move on.”</p><p>“Ahem.” Both of them looked up to the young woman standing at the counter, finally paying attention (or at least, making herself known). She looked at Sung’s eye, Phobos’s green skin, and the unconscious red-shifted man between them, and amazingly, just looked bored. She pointed at Phobos’s dented bat. “You’re paying for that.”</p><p>Phobos stared at her blankly for a second, shrugged, and then walked up to put the bat on the counter. He brought one of the t-shirts while he was at it.</p><p>“You Toronto guys are so weird,” she said as she rang Phobos up. He and Sung both shrugged.</p><p>“Yeah, it’s a Canadian thing,” Sung said.</p><p>“Cool. Enjoy the rest of the game or whatever,” she said as she handed Phobos a bag with his new memorabilia. She glanced lazily at the unconscious, time-frozen alien on her floor. “Take your sleepy friend with you before I call the cops.”</p><p>“Oh. Yeah. We will do that,” Sung said, putting his shoe back on. “Thank you very much!”</p><p>“Mm,” the woman hummed, giving them one more round of stink eye each before she picked a book up off the counter, found her place, and got back to reading.</p><p>Phobos slung his bag with his purchases over his shoulder and helped Sung pick up the unconscious cop. He was frozen solid in a face-down position, so he was awkward to transport. Sung looked both ways before they walked back into the open hall--the coast was thankfully clear--and then they hauled the time cop across the way into the men’s room.</p><p>In their first turn of good luck that day, the bathroom was empty. They ushered their hostage (oh god, they had a hostage. They just wanted to watch a baseball game) into the handicap stall and locked the door.</p><p>“Well, this is going well,” Sung huffed. He eased the cop down onto the tile floor and placed a hand on his own chest. His core was still hot, and he felt incredibly sore. “I dunno if I can do that again. Y’know, stopping the time blast. That shit really took it out of me.”</p><p><em> How’d you do that? </em> Phobos signed. He pulled his hat off and tied his hair back. After lugging a body around, it was too warm to keep wearing it, long alien ears be damned.</p><p>“Prismatic core.” Sung tapped the metal plate in his chest, glowing through his t-shirt. “It doesn’t like their time blasts. Speaking of which.” He kicked the time blaster with his toe. “I’d love to take this thing with us, but I’m not about to cut a dude’s hand off so I can get past the blaster’s security system.”</p><p>Phobos knelt down next to the cop and set his merch bag on the ground. <em> Wonder what else he’s got? </em> He pulled open the coat, and the purple fabric fluttered in slow motion.</p><p>Sung reached around the base of the cop’s jaw, feeling around with his fingers for the edge of his holomask. He found it and peeled it off, the holographic mesh flickering and sputtering as it struggled to adapt. Underneath the mask, the man was bald, purple, and vaguely lizard-like, with slits for nostrils and no visible ears. “Aw, look, his coat matches his complexion.”</p><p>Phobos snorted. <em> Aw, cute. The jacket really brings out his eyes. Too bad we’re taking it. </em>He started wiggling the trench coat off the guy, having to wrestle the sleeves off his frozen, stiff arms.</p><p>“Indeed. It’s a shame it had to come to this,” Sung nodded. “Though to be fair, he started it.” He pulled his sunglasses off and slipped the holomask on over his face. It automatically read the shape of his features and adapted to make him look human with as few structural changes as possible. It clung uncomfortably tight to his face, making him feel slightly claustrophobic. There was a reason why he never used these things. “Ugh, gross, it smells like lizard in here,” he grumbled. “How do I look, Phobs?”</p><p>Phobos looked up at him, took in his appearance, and smirked. <em> Horrible, </em> he signed. <em> You still have the mustache. </em></p><p>“Oh, you too with the ‘stache hating, huh?” Sung deadpanned. Phobos snickered into his hand. “I swear, between you and Meouch…” He pulled out his phone and opened up the camera. He didn’t look half bad, he thought. Two eyes, brown instead of bright yellow, and rounded, human ears. “I look good, fuck you.”</p><p><em> Yeah, yeah. The light source doesn’t match, though, </em> Phobos pointed out. <em> You look like you’re outside in the sun. </em></p><p>Sung frowned and took another look, holding the phone back. The shadows on his face were all wrong, and didn’t move at all when he tilted his head. “Well that’s bogus,” he pouted. </p><p><em> At least it’s better than nothing, </em> Phobos signed with a shrug. He tugged at the coat, finally getting one arm free. From there, it was easy to pull off, and the fabric, no longer attached to the temporally frozen cop, finally stopped billowing in slow motion. He tossed it to Sung, who put it on with a flourish.</p><p>“Hell yeah. I’ve always wanted to try one of these on,” he said, spinning around so the long coat trailed behind him. It didn’t fit great, unfortunately. It was simultaneously too tight around his shoulders and too long everywhere else. Such were the woes of being short and buff.</p><p>
  <em> How many times have you run into these guys? </em>
</p><p>“I dunno. Like… three, four times? I think this is the fourth time,” he replied, counting on his fingers. “Yeah, fourth.”</p><p>
  <em> All because your licence is out of date? </em>
</p><p>“As far as I know,” Sung shrugged.</p><p>
  <em> Get it renewed. </em>
</p><p>“God, it’s a whole fuckin’ <em> thing </em> though!” he groaned, and Phobos snorted. “You know how slow the regular DMV is? The Time DMV is a thousand percent worse.”</p><p>
  <em> Oh, really? </em>
</p><p>“Yes! It exists in a separate pocket dimension! One where time doesn’t exist!! It literally takes an eternity to get anything done there.”</p><p>
  <em> Or it takes no time at all. </em>
</p><p>“You know, I’m really not appreciating the sass coming out of you today,” Sung said. Phobos shot him an absolute shit-eating grin, and he couldn’t help but smile back and roll his eye (eyes?). This whole outing was pretty much a disaster, but at least they were having fun. He stuck his hands in the pocket of the coat and did a few poses, just to show off in it. “But yeah, I <em> do </em> like this trench coat. Maybe I should get one. In yellow, though. Purple’s not my color.”</p><p>Phobos visibly fought to hold in a laugh. <em> What, it’s not enough that the time police are after you? You want to get chased by the fashion police, too? </em></p><p>“Oh, that fuckin’ does it.” Sung pushed up his sleeves and took a threatening step towards Phobos, who was cracking up on the floor next to the toilet and the frozen time cop. God, the whole situation was just delightfully stupid.</p><p>Something fell out of the coat when Sung moved, softly falling to the ground. When Sung looked down, he saw a few folded up papers on his sneaker, and he bent down to pick them up. </p><p><em> What is it? </em>Phobos asked.</p><p>“Looks like a mission briefing. Which is really not the sort of thing to loosely keep in your pockets,” Sung tutted. He skimmed through the papers, trying to get the gist of it. “Something something time travelers, something something reports of sports betting… Oh, so they’re like, just lurking around big sporting events to try and stop fuckin’ <em> Back to the Future 2 </em>from happening.”</p><p>
  <em> Why Earth, though? I thought you said they never come here. </em>
</p><p>“Apparently, a few thousand years from now, humans get nostalgic for their ancestral homeworld,” Sung said, flipping through the dossier. “Time traveling humans and aliens have already been spotted at two Superbowls and one Stanley Cup match. There’s no mention of us specifically in here,” he said, folding the papers back up and tucking them in the pocket of his jeans, “so I guess they were just on patrol and got lucky with us. That being said, we’re still fucked if we get caught, so…”</p><p><em> Yeah, especially now that we’ve resisted arrest and assaulted an officer, </em>Phobos grinned.</p><p>“Yep. Happy birthday Phobos--I got you a crime spree. You’re welcome.” Sung sighed. “Anyway, are we done with him?” He nudged the time cop with his foot.</p><p>
  <em> Yeah. We probably shouldn’t leave him here, though. He had that mask on for a reason. </em>
</p><p>“True. At the very least, we shouldn’t leave him in the handicap stall. That’s just rude.”</p><p>They decided to deposit the cop in one of the non-handicap stalls, since there weren’t an abundance of other places to hide an unconscious alien body. Not before they used his time blaster a few more times, though. With one down, there were still two time cops after them, at least, but it was easy enough to lure them into the bathroom and freeze them too. All they had to do was step out into the hallway, start yelling about placing bets, and they came running, one after the other. Once they were in the bathroom, Phobos hid in the far stall and peeked over the top, luring them in further. Then, Sung leapt out of the first stall and knocked them over their heads with the baseball bat. Then, they simply used their weapons on them. Piece of cake.</p><p>Once Phobos had a disguise of his own (he looked strange with two blue eyes instead of his four white ones, but hey, that was humans for you), they tucked all three of the cops neatly in one stall, collected their souvenirs, and walked back out to the stadium.</p><p>Sung couldn’t believe that worked. The two of them, completely unarmed save for some improvisation with a commemorative bat, had taken out three time cops with barely a scratch. Now they had actual human disguises, pockets full of documents and gadgets, and official violet coats. Phobos didn’t wear his, opting to change out of his jersey into his new t-shirt, and he urged Sung to ditch the jacket as well. It would be easier to lay low if they just looked like regular humans, he reasoned, and he was right. Sung shrugged the trench coat off, but he held onto it, as well as the one they’d snagged for Phobos. They would come in handy later.</p><p> </p><p>It was the sixth inning. Score was 2-1 Blue Jays, thanks to the home run in the fourth, and things had quieted down, both on the field and off. Sung and Phobos had returned to their seats, and the time cops were none the wiser. The officers were running around the stadium on high alert, trying to find their missing targets and teammates, but they ran right past the two disguised time travelers without a second glance. Sung and Phobos were hiding in plain sight, and they were as good as invisible.</p><p>They got another round of beers to help take the edge off, and once they were starting to feel comfortable again, Phobos filled Sung in on what they’d missed in the game. Apparently, Toronto’d had a few close calls, but there wouldn’t be anything too exciting to see until the ninth inning, when Atlanta tied the game up.</p><p>“I knew you liked this stuff, but damn.” Sung smiled. He took another sip of his drink. “You really do have this whole game memorized, don’t you?”</p><p><em> What, an intergalactic time traveling alien lord can’t enjoy a little baseball? </em> Phobos signed with a smirk. Sung laughed. <em> For real though, it’s way different actually being here. Being surrounded by all these people who don’t know how it’s going to end… It's exciting. </em></p><p>“It is! Dramatic irony is one of my favorite parts of time traveling,” Sung said. He looked out at the game, at the relative calm between pitches. He took a sip of his beer and smiled. “It’s always weird, hopping around in the past. Y’know, toeing that fine line between causing a paradox and not. It’s nice to just… time travel casually, and watch a part of history unfold around you. Just be a tourist for a little bit.”</p><p>Phobos laughed as he tucked a loose lock of blond hair behind his human-looking ear, the pointiness flashing through for a second before the holomask hid it again. <em> Yeah, just a couple of tourists who beat the shit out of some time cops. Real casual-like. </em></p><p>“Ha, yeah. Well, you know what I mean,” he shrugged. “We’re just here for fun. We’re not here to change anything or do anything crazy. Usually… Well, I used to time travel a ton on my own,” Sung said, picking absentmindedly at the label of the beer bottle in his hand. “Past and future, back and forth, always toeing that paradox line because I didn’t know where it <em> was. </em>I’d lost track of when I was supposed to be. You know? I lost track of when my present was, and every jump became this huge risk. It got exhausting after a while.”</p><p><em> Damn. No wonder the time cops want your ass, </em> Phobos signed with a sarcastic look in his eye. Then he thought for a second, and cocked his head to the side. <em> I can see how that would happen, though. I’m from 1,000 years in the future, but I’ve been on Earth for so long that the 21st century feels like the present now. I don’t have to worry about causing time paradoxes every time I go outside, because Earth, at this point in time anyway, is so far removed from the rest of the galaxy. I’m not in danger of interacting with anything that’ll affect my personal history. </em></p><p>“Yeah! That’s part of why I picked it,” Sung nodded. “It’s a safe place where we could start fresh, and not have to worry about any temporal bullshit. We were free to just… make our own present.”</p><p>Phobos smiled. <em> Yeah. That’s a nice way to think of it. We made our own present… </em> He nodded and took a drink. <em> I’m glad we went through all the hassle of moving to this planet. Setting up shop here was a huge pain in the ass, but it’s worked out. I love this place. </em></p><p>“Yeah, I’m glad it all paid off,” Sung smiled. “This place is our home, whether the fuckin’ time cops like it or not. They’re not scaring us off that easily.”</p><p>Phobos’s ears flicked, briefly visible through the holomask, and his face was set in a scowl. <em> Seriously. Fucking assholes can’t even let us spectate in peace, even though we live here. I no longer feel bad about hitting that guy with a bat and dumping him and his buddies in the bathroom. </em></p><p>“You felt bad about that before?”</p><p>
  <em> No, but now I definitely don’t. </em>
</p><p>Sung laughed. “You’ve been hanging out with Meouch and Havve too much. You never used to be this violent.”</p><p><em> I’m rude now. </em> Phobos grinned and bared his teeth. <em> Phobos off the shits. </em></p><p>“It <em> is </em> your birthday!” Sung said. “New year, new you!”</p><p>
  <em> Watch out world. Rude Phobos is here. </em>
</p><p>“Watch out, time cops. ‘Cause if they’re still lurking around on our ship by the time this game ends...” Sung smirked. “You’re gonna wind up going fucking feral on them.”</p><p> </p><p>It was past midnight. They were in the bottom of the eleventh inning, and Phobos knew that the game was in the bag. The Blue Jays had gotten enough base hits in the top of the inning to score two runs, and Atlanta had just scored one of their own. The score was 4-3, and Atlanta had a man on base and two outs. A base hit would tie up the game again. A third out would net Toronto their first-ever World Series win. Phobos was vibrating, he was so excited. It was as if he’d never seen the game before.</p><p>Toronto swapped out their pitchers, and Phobos shook Sung’s arm. Sung, who’d been paying closer attention to a time cop in his periphery than the game, turned to look. He could feel the buzz in his senses at Phobos’s touch, the emotion humming through him like electricity.</p><p>Foul ball. Phobos’s leg was bouncing. The crowd was starting to get excited. People were clapping and chanting all around them. <em> Here it comes, here it comes, </em>Sung saw Phobos mouth to himself.</p><p>It happened fast. There went the pitch. Atlanta’s hitter bunted the ball and took off in a mad dash. Toronto’s pitcher fielded the ball to first without skipping a beat. Throw, catch, tag, out. Inning over, game over, series over. The Blue Jays won.</p><p>The stadium <em> erupted. </em>There were far more Braves fans than Blue Jays fans in attendance, but it sure didn’t sound like it. Everyone who’d made the long trek from Toronto was screaming their heads off like it was the end of the world. Sung could feel the crowd, the emotions resonating right in the center of his mind, and it felt almost like when they played a sold out show, except way more powerful. The sheer amount of people was insane.</p><p>Phobos was jumping and whistling, and he wrapped his arms around Sung in a fast, slappy bro hug. The contact caused Phobos’s emotions to slam into him like a fastball to the chest, and the wind was knocked right out of him. Sung hugged Phobos back to keep his balance, the pure tidal wave of happiness and excitement making his heart flutter and his legs feel like spaghetti.</p><p>Phobos broke from the hug and held firmly onto Sung’s biceps to hold him upright. <em> You okay? </em> He mouthed.</p><p>“Yeah,” Sung said with a breathless chuckle. “Yeah, it’s just a <em> lot </em> all at once. I’m fine.”</p><p><em> Good. </em> Phobos hugged him again, still bouncing on his toes. He eventually let go, and once he seemed satisfied that Sung could stand on his own, he resumed signing. <em> We should probably get out of here before the rest of the crowd, huh? </em></p><p>“Yeah, probably,” Sung nodded. “We have a ship to break back into, after all, and I’d prefer it if we didn’t have an audience. Only if you’re ready, of course.”</p><p>Phobos turned his head and looked back down at the field, where players were dog-piling on top of one another and celebrating and dumping sports drinks on each other. Sung could actually track his gaze for once, thanks to the blue, human eyes the holomask gave him. Phobos smiled. <em> I’m good. Let’s boogie. </em></p><p>They swiftly gathered their things and made a beeline for the exit, carefully keeping an eye out for any time cops lurking around. Plenty of other people were making their way out of the stadium as well, eager to get home after the extended game, so Sung and Phobos were able to blend in with the crowd until they got out to the parking lot.</p><p>Sneaking between the aisles of the late 80’s, early 90’s sedans, they made their way to the back of the lot, where their ship and a handful of time cops were waiting. There were at least two on perimeter lookout, and four more trying to get into the ship or take readings from exterior terminals. Sung remembered there being more of them earlier, but they were probably off dealing with their three friends still frozen in the bathroom.</p><p>“Look at these nerds,” Sung snickered from their hiding spot behind an SUV. “They must’ve been tryin’ to break in for, like, the past three hours.”</p><p><em> Let’s help them out, </em> Phobos signed with a smirk. The two put their purple coats on, and Phobos tucked his bat into one of the pockets inside for easy access. It was time to infiltrate.</p><p>They approached the ship, doing their best to act casual, but all eyes were immediately on them. Sung cleared his throat and waved. “Hello, fellow time cops!” he said cheerily, with a big smile plastered on his holographically-masked face. Phobos brushed a finger against his hand, and Sung could feel his internal groan zip up his arm and into his brain. Okay, point taken. That was a bad intro.</p><p>The time cop closest to them put a hand on the blaster at her hip. “Names and identification numbers. Now,” she growled.</p><p>Sung stiffened up, squaring his shoulders. “Whaaaat! Come on, you guys know us! Right?” he said. Oh, this was going poorly. This was one of those times he wished he didn’t have to do all the talking, and that Phobos could just take over for him. He was not a good actor under pressure.</p><p>The time cop pointed her blaster right at Sung, clearly unamused. “Names. Identification numbers. <em> Now.” </em></p><p>“Okay, okay,” Sung said. He held his hands up in defeat. “Man, you guys are no fun. Fine, my name is--” He stopped mid-sentence, grabbed Phobos by the wrist, and bolted. The time cop fired, but he swerved around her shots, dragging Phobos along so he wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire. “Go!” he shouted as he released his grip, letting Phobos break off. Their cover blown to smithereens, Sung ran up to the nearest time cop and high jump kicked the blaster from her hands.</p><p>Phobos took off for the ship, pulling the baseball bat out of his coat and running with it at the ready. They needed to get on board and out of the line of fire ASAP, and that meant going through a few dudes.</p><p>Sung followed up his first attack with a roundhouse kick, making sure the time cop was disarmed, before finishing with a side kick to the gut to knock her onto her back. He turned to follow Phobos, just in time to notice the other perimeter guard coming up from around the far side of the ship. The four who were by the door were fumbling for their blasters, just starting to get them up and aimed.</p><p>Sung darted to the perimeter guard, opting to cover Phobos’s flank. He was greeted with several blasts of blue temporal energy, which he narrowly jerked and twisted around. He couldn’t afford to get hit by another one of those freeze blasts; his core was still making his chest ache from the last one.</p><p>He tried to land a flying side kick, but this cop had more time to react than the other one. His kick was caught and he was thrown forward, his momentum carrying him right smack into the pavement. He landed on his ass and tumbled, quickly scrambling to stop himself. Once he was able to recover into a crouch, he swung his legs up and around, kicking the time cop’s blaster out of his hand and up into the air. He jumped up onto his feet, ready to engage in some one-on-one combat, when he heard more blaster fire. Phobos needed backup. Satisfied that he was disarmed, Sung spun around the cop, shoving him to the side, and rushed back over to his friend.</p><p>Phobos was in sight. One of the four other time cops was disarmed, and another was on the ground, clutching his knee. Phobos was going all out with his bat, moving around quickly and staying light on his toes. His slight frame and proficiency with his jetpack made him nimble as hell in a fight, even when he was grounded.</p><p>Sung heard another blaster shot fire off, felt something slam into his back, and everything around him sped up in a flash of blue. Oh no.</p><p>The energy in his core flickered and spasmed, trying and failing to dispel the temporal blast. His ribs ached as the core buzzed in its housing, and Sung didn’t think he could move, even if he <em> wasn’t </em>frozen in time. Shit.</p><p>The world moved blindingly fast around him. Phobos and the time cops were nothing more than blurs, zooming around faster than he could hope to see. He had no way of knowing what was going on. God, he hoped Phobos was okay on his own.</p><p>The world around him shifted, and he felt himself being moved, dragged--and then he fell forward onto his hands and knees as he was brought back forward to the regular flow of time.</p><p>Things faded from blue back to normal, and Sung gasped a deep breath. “Oh Jesus,” he breathed. He felt dizzy, things moving too quick and then too slow, and he squeezed his eye shut. There was a hand on his shoulder, and he heard muffled blaster fire.</p><p>After a beat to get his head settled, he looked up to see Phobos kneeling in front of him, his long hair a mess and his holomask flickering. They were inside the ship, dim running lights shining down from the ceiling, the door leading outside flashing blue from blaster fire. There was a broken time blaster at Phobos’s feet, cracked in half and sparking.</p><p><em> You ok? </em>Phobos signed one-handed, his other hand keeping Sung steady.</p><p>“Yeah,” Sung wheezed. He pointed to Phobos’s cheek. “You uh… got a little somethin’ somethin’ on your face there, Phobs. You’re lookin’ a little bit like a Picasso.”</p><p>Half of Phobos’s face was back to its normal shade of green, and with the mask still partially functioning, he looked like he had five eyes instead of his normal four or disguised two. Phobos pulled the mask off and discarded it on the floor. <em> I got hit in the face, </em> he signed, and then gently massaged his cheek with his fingers. <em> I managed to take out another guy or two, but I couldn’t handle them all at once. I didn’t know how to unfreeze you, so I just grabbed that time blaster on a whim and dragged you on board the ship. No idea how I didn’t get my ass shot. </em></p><p>“You got us on the ship, though,” Sung beamed. “You okay?”</p><p><em> I’ll probably have a few new bruises in the morning, but I’m fine. </em> Phobos smiled. <em> We should leave before they freeze the ship. </em></p><p>“Yeah, let’s not push our luck more than we already have. C’mon, help me up.”</p><p>Phobos hoisted Sung up onto his feet, and Sung held tight to Phobos’s shoulder for balance. His core was still uncomfortably buzzing in his chest, and the world still felt a little jittery.</p><p>They hurried up to the bridge, where Phobos dropped Sung into the pilot’s seat before diving at his own navigation computer. Sung turned the engines on, and flicked switches one by one to start getting the ship warmed up and ready to go. The whole thing was being rocked by blaster fire, and red damaging flashes were mixed in with the relatively harmless blue ones. The cops were done playing around now.</p><p>“I think we pissed them off a little.” Sung smiled. Phobos laughed. The ship hummed to life as the engines started to rumble beneath them. “Phobs, set our warp trajectory for some empty part of space. If they chase us, I don’t want to lead them right back to the house,” Sung ordered. He flipped more switches and levers as the ship began to take off, slowly hovering in the air. Once the ground was out from under them, the shaking and rocking got worse, and the viewport was filled with nothing but flashes of blaster fire. Their shields simply weren’t that effective at close range.</p><p>The ship tilted to the side, and a bright red warning message popped up on their viewscreen. Sung opened it up, and a camera on the ship’s starboard side showed a time cop actually <em> climbing onto their wing. </em></p><p>“Oh fuck!!” Sung yelled. Phobos locked in their coordinates, slamming down on the buttons in front of him. “Hold on!” Sung yelped as he gunned the throttle, and the ship rocketed from a standstill to flying straight up into the sky in a matter of seconds.</p><p>The Atlanta night sky around them faded as they entered their warp, launching into the time vortex and leaving 1992 behind. The time cop on their wing was gone, knocked to the ground when the ship accelerated, and for the moment, they looked like they were in the clear.</p><p>Sung sank back into his seat, breathing heavily. The ship had taken some damage, but nothing that would stop it from flying. He and Phobos were both okay. Well, except for the uncomfortable tension in his chest from his core and the hit to the face that Phobos took, but that was fine. They would live. “Hey, Computer?” Sung asked. “They following us?”</p><p>A message popped up on screen. <em> No warps detected in immediate vicinity. Warp coordinates and chrono particles remain secure and uncompromised. </em></p><p>“Oh thank god.” He breathed a sigh of relief, and his body finally relaxed as they came out of the warp and reappeared in space, aimlessly floating with no one else around. They’d actually escaped scot-free. He pulled off his holomask, finally able to take his first breath of fresh air in hours, and tossed it lazily onto the ship’s console. From the way the pixels were blinking, his mask wasn’t functioning well, either. The time blast must’ve fucked it up. Oh well. </p><p>“Phobos?” Sung asked, turning his head. Phobos was slumped back in his seat, looking exhausted, but still smiling. “That was awesome.”</p><p>Phobos shook his head and laughed, a chuckle at first, and then silent wheezing, punctuated only by sharp inhales. <em> That was so fucking stupid, </em>he managed to sign as he was cracking up.</p><p>“All we wanted to do was watch fucking baseball,” Sung laughed with him, “and we wound up robbing the fucking cops!”</p><p>Phobos squeaked, his voice cracking as he clapped his hands together. <em> Hello fellow time cops! What the fuck was that, dude?! </em></p><p>“It was all I could think of! God, that was so bad!”</p><p>An incoming message appeared on the view screen, and was automatically patched through. “Hey, where are you guys?” It was Meouch, sitting at the kitchen table, calling them from his phone. “I thought you were coming right home to pick up dinner. This thing says you’re not in the 90’s anymore, but--hey, why the hell do you look like shit?”</p><p>“We took hostages, Meouch!” Sung yelled, and Phobos howled with laughter, nearly falling back out of his chair. “We beat up some time cops and stole their shit and we left them in the fucking bathroom!”</p><p>“What the fuck? <em> What? </em>” Meouch sputtered as Sung and Phobos struggled to breathe. “You guys got in a fight without me?! No fair! I thought you were just gonna watch fuckin’ baseball!”</p><p>“So did we! Oh my god,” Sung coughed. “Oh god, everything hurts. Jesus Christ. Oh fuck, Phobos, Phobos,” he said, trying to get Phobos’s attention. “Show Meouch the fuckin’ bat you got to beat up dudes with!”</p><p>Phobos, already half in his seat and half on the ground, pulled the bat from inside his coat. He only had half of it. He held it up so Meouch could see, and the top half of it had cracked and splintered off. </p><p>Sung was <em> crying. </em>Phobos laughed so hard he slipped all the way to the floor, the bat falling from his hands.</p><p>“Wow. Assholes,” Meouch grumbled. Sung could barely even hear him at that point. He and Phobos were laughing too hard. “Is this because I said baseball is boring? Because it still is. Fuck you guys. Next time you wanna fight, go to a fucking hockey game with me. Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”</p><p>Sung couldn’t reply. He was laughing so hard, his face hurt. With a huff, Meouch hung up the call, and Sung barely even noticed. He was more focused on Phobos, on the ground, somehow signing through all of this.</p><p>
  <em> Best. Birthday. Ever. </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much again to my gf Ashe, who helped me edit this fic and who gave me some amazing suggestions to really make it shine. Love you babe!</p><p>And thank you, dear reader, for reading! If you enjoyed this oneshot, I hope you'll leave a comment. They really do make my day and mean a ton to me. Have a great day, and stay safe out there!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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